Page 50 of Sweatpants & Sweet Tea

She must think that my ‘wet mop chemistry’ was due to my resistance to staying in Georgia. Little did she know there was an even more ridiculous reason for my behavior. Iwishthat I was pouting and being immature. I’d much rather those were the reasons that I kept losing interest in Dr. Dreamy. Unfortunately, they were not.

I straightened and rolled my hair in a barrel brush, then pulled it out to dry, a technique Davina had taught me. As I did, something caught my eye outside. The actual reason I’d had zero chemistry with Elias.

At the far end of the Mitchell Farm Harlan was digging a hole. Shirtless. His upper body was sculpted by the gods. The man had less than five percent body fat. My eyes scanned the chiseled lines of his shoulder blades and back. Even his muscles had muscles.

In my line of work, I was constantly surrounded by men who took care of themselves, ate right, and worked out. But despite running a fitness class and being a retired professional athlete, Harlan’s physique was not born in a gym. His muscles were hard-earned from manual labor. His hands were calloused

A tingle of bliss spread through me as I remembered the feeling of his roughened fingertips sliding up my bare thighs. I shook my head back and forth, trying to erase the memories of just how good those calloused hands had felt on my body. My attempt only led to more flashbacks of the night I’d shared with Harlan. The kiss in the boat. The rain. The barn. The haystack. The way he felt inside of me.

No.I was not going to take a walk down Triple X Memory Lane. I had to get ready to go on a date with someone. And, since Harlan was working out in the field, I doubted it was with him.

I’d seen him this morning doing the talking head for his B-roll. I was having coffee with Aunt Rhonda when I noticed Phil setting up the shot in the middle of the field between the two farmhouses. I’d tried not to stare, but there wasn’t a lot else to look at. All day, I’d had to fight the temptation to ask Phil for the dailies to see what Harlan’s answers to the interview questions for the segment were. The only thing that stopped me was self-respect. If I did that, I’d be showing my hand that I was interested in him, which I was desperately trying to keep under wraps. It had been a little over a week since I arrived in town, and so far, I thought I’d been doing a decent job.

My phone buzzed, and I saw it was a message from Davina letting me know she’d be here in ten minutes for hair and makeup for my date tonight.

Shit. I was running late. I needed my hair to be completely dry.

As I continued to blow dry my hair, my mind wandered to who I might be meeting tonight. Since I’d already dated Elias, and it wasn’t Harlan, that left bachelor number two, Mark Lyons. Bachelor number three, Jerry Clemons, or bachelor number four, Jack Dawson (notably not named after theTitaniccharacter).

I wasn’t sure if I had a preference. They were all good-looking, eligible men who women had bid thousands of dollars for a date with. I should be excited about tonight…but since I knew it wasn’t going to be Harlan, I wasn’t.

This is a job, I reminded myself.It’s work.

“Daphne!” Aunt Rhonda shouted from downstairs.

I opened the bathroom door, and before I could respond, I heard a series of sneezes. Oh no. Dini was back. My stomach did more somersaults than the ’84 women’s Olympic team at the thought of bringing the runaway cat back home, but I told myself there was no reason for the nerves. Harlan was out in the field. I’d be returning the fugitive feline to Mr. Mitchell.

“Be right down!” I called out, then pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt I planned to wear while I was in makeup and hair.

I took the stairs two at a time, and by the time I’d reached the bottom step, Aunt Rhonda’s face was exploding in a dozen rapid-fire sneezes.

“How does she keep getting in here?” I pondered aloud.

“Probably the same way the mice do.”

“Mice?” A shiver raced down my body. Of course, I knew that there were mice in the country, but I’d never actually seen one.

“Can’t have a cat, so I got mice.” Aunt Rhonda responded as if it wasn’t a big deal.

To her, it probably wasn’t. That was just one more reason that I could never live here, in the country. I was not a fan of mice or rats. I’d heard all the arguments about how smart they were and even had friends who thought they were cute. I did not share those sentiments. Sometimes, when there was a construction project in the city, there would be more rats out and about, but they were never in my condo. I didn’t want to cohabitate with rodents.

“Come here, little one.” I scooped up Dini, who was sunbathing on the kitchen table. The moment I held her against my chest, she nuzzled into my neck.

I slid on a pair of flip-flops and headed out the back door. Half-way across the field, I saw Harlan walking toward me.

Oh boy.

He was still shirtless, and I felt like I was in a men’s cologne commercial, a beer commercial, or some other commercial that would have a hot country guy walking across a field in it.

“She got out again,” he stated as soon as we got within hearing distance.

“Yep.”

“Tell Miss Rhonda, I’m sorry.”

“I will,” I agreed as we reached each other in the middle of the field.

Just like the first time we’d met, I handed Dini over to him, and our hands brushed against one another’s. This time, I knew exactly what those hands were capable of, though. The innocent skin-on-skin contact sent a thrill racing through me. I took in a shaky breath as I cast my gaze to the ground, trying to get my hormones under control. I didn’t know where else to look. I couldn’t look in his eyes; they were way too dreamy, his bare chest was code-red sexy, and his worn jeans and work bootswere the male equivalent of Victoria’s Secret lingerie, so the grass was my best bet for not going into arousal overload.

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